XAVIER: A MUTANT MEMOIR

CH1 A FATHER'S SHADOW

It is said greatness springs from small beginnings. When I am faced with the reality of my life and what I am capable of, I must remember those words and know they are true. As Professor Charles Xavier, figurehead to a new generation of humankind, the world has quaked more than once under the powers I wield and the universe itself has been irrevocably changed. But I was, and sometimes still am, just a little boy in awe of his father.

I grew up on my family's estate in Westchester County just a few hours drive from New York City, though the lush and sprawling grounds made it feel as if it were its own little world. Back then I had little comprehension what kind of wealth those private grounds and the historied manor we lived in represented. Though ours was clearly a privileged existence, my parents made a point not to draw attention to it.

Their intent I've gleamed since was to not instill in me any sense of false superiority. Despite being from old money himself, my father was surprisingly grounded and was lucky enough to find a wife that loved him for who he was and not what he had. Together they decided it of paramount importance to make sure I didn't grow up in the illusion that I was any more special than everyone else.

As noble as their intentions may have been, I can't help but to think this was a mistake. Not that they shielded me from a mentality of self-aggrandizing, but that they protected me from the reality that not everyone is afforded all the blessings that money and station bought for us.

My father, Dr. Brian Xavier, had not let the fortune he inherited define him. He could have simply coasted off of it or learned to juggle the many investments that perpetuated our family's wealth just as his father had before him. Instead he studied the sciences and earned himself a place at Oxford on his own merits, not on greased palms or pulled strings. First he attended there, graduating top of his class, then eventually he was taken on in a teaching position.

It was there he met my mother, Sharon, in a small coffee shop where she worked just off campus. They quickly fell in love and eloped, much to the chagrin of the many wealthy families hoping to unite their fortunes with ours through marriage. His own father was convinced he had done so in an act of defiance, but my father insisted love was his only motivation and even derided anyone who could be so appalling as to let money guide such decisions.

Unable to see eye to eye, or to keep civil tongues when speaking to one another, the argument grew into a feud that ended in my father being cut off from the family entirely. For several years my parents lived in a small apartment near Oxford as my father, aside from his teaching duties, pursued scientific research with a friend and one-time classmate, Kurt Marko.

Unlike my father, who studied science for the betterment of mankind, Marko was chasing dreams of wealth and notoriety. His ambitions made him a very motivated and challenging partner, which complemented my father's work ethic quite well. Like the Chinese Taijitu, their motivations and temperaments circled each other in a balancing of yin and yang and fueled a uniquely productive partnership. They were steadily on the track to greatness until they were derailed by the most mundane of roadblocks. In an inevitable consequence of my parent's love, my mother had become pregnant.

To my parents this was a blessing to be celebrated. My father's attentions quickly became divided and his work with Marko was put on hiatus. Marko was not pleased with this delay, but he was nowhere near the scientist my father was, and therefor had little choice but to accept his decision.

In the midst of preparing for their pending parenthood, however, my parent's received tragic news. Over the course of their estrangement my grandfather had become very ill and, losing his battle for recovery, was not expected to live.

A wealthy widower and father of only one estranged son, he didn't lack for the means of paying for personal care, but those in his employ pitied his loneliness and wrote my father to plead on behalf of an old man too stubborn to ask himself for what he really needed.

Returning to Xavier manor, my father and mother helped care for my grandfather as he fell deeper into his infirmity. Over several difficult months, father and son slowly made amends and even my mother became somewhat of a bright glimmer in the dying eyes of my grandfather.

Finally, one windy fall afternoon, the lord of Xavier manor succumbed to illness and passed. As a man I never knew him, but of him I can say his final act was one of growth, wisdom, and compassion. Seeing the error of his ways, my grandfather had amended his will to once again make Brian Xavier, my father, his soul heir.

There were those that believed it was simply familial pride that prompted the change, but my father often recounted the story to me and there was no doubt in his mind that his father had changed. My paternal confidence being as steadfast as his own, that was proof enough for me of my grandfather's redemption.

Now with the backing of our family fortune, my father and Dr. Marko resumed their research in full earnest. That is, after my mother gave birth and they had taken time to welcome to the family their brand new baby boy; Charles Francis Xavier.

So it was that I was raised in the picture of happiness. Loving parents, luxurious home, and the richness of nature coddled me in my childhood and I wanted for nothing. For this reason I was totally unprepared when tragedy finally found my perfect little world with a boom that shook the estate grounds.

I was playing outside when I heard the explosion and turned to see a pillar of smoke splitting the sky above the tree line. I rushed toward it see what it was and found charred and flaming wreckage where my father's lab had been.

Even then I didn't understand what that must mean. I only marveled at the power of it. How impressive the blackened hole where the mansion's west wing had been was. It was only when my mother came for me and snatched me up, her face lined with tears and her voice shaking with mournful sounds, that I began to feel a foreboding that my world was about to be torn apart.